Thanks to you reviewer friends. And, guys, the plan was to have a few breakdowns but… ya know, not in the situations they found themselves in last chapter, because I wanted to do this parallel thing. For reasons. Enjoy!
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Eomer stole away from the Rohirrim. His tent offered at least a bit more privacy than anywhere else. He stepped inside and finally let himself feel. And it felt like he had gotten beat in the chest with a club. He was so choked up it actually, physically, hurt him. He knelt slowly, his legs starting to shake. He couldn't help but feel glad he had waited. It wasn't fair to his men to see him in a weakened state. If they couldn't help but think he was a heartless bastard then let it be. Here, the veil dropped.
Miles away, Grima had closed and locked the door to the room he had been given to sleep in. Same grief, over the same girl, and in the same form of solitude as Eomer. Yet, Eomer's grief felt deeper, hit harder, hurt more, perhaps, than Grima's. For Grima had only ever wanted to kill Theoden, Eomer put forth quite a bit of energy into keeping the Uncle who had treated him as his own son alive. Eomer had failed his own family.
Grima did not know this. Nothing of the pain Eomer felt. Though it is not certain he would have cared.
Since his face-off with Saruman had ended, he slammed his back against a wall and slid down in dismay. His heart beat a million times a minute, as he took deep breaths to keep himself calm. Grima knew this wasn't definitive. Dagaz had taken prisoners as instructed, of course. Dagaz always followed orders. There was a 90% chance the girl he had pined after for so long was dead. But there was always that 10%. And knowing Eowyn, surely that 10% would be closer to 20%?
Eomer did not know this.
Ing, noticing his cousin had gone, went looking for him and, trying his tent, lifted the cover of the front a bit. "Eomer?" he asked, seeing the darkened form that was likely his cousin, huddled in the back, hunched over and shaking, if only slightly.
Eomer hurled the nearest object in reach at Ingwaz, and, seeing as it was dark outside, Ing couldn't tell what it was, nor did he care to stick around to find out.
A knock at Grima's door roused him from his catatonia. Getting up off the floor, his muscles and back sore from the stone floor and wall, he went over and cracked the door, seeing the face of a goblin who, although refusing to tell Grima his name, he'd gotten along quite well with.
"I hear you're leaving."
"Yes. Tomorrow. Word travels fast here, doesn't it?" Grima would have laughed, but any urge to had been lost on him completely.
The nameless goblin nodded tersely. It was very quiet and tense for a few moments.
"My family and I are coming, and a few others." Grima was unaware Goblins had families. He'd never seen them as an actual, living thing. A technicality shortly to be remedied, he assumed, as long days only in the company of Dark Races were to come.
"Very well, I'll see you at the gates tomorrow morning." Grima said, and shut the door. He hadn't expected a single soul to want to leave Isengard in favour of roaming aimlessly about the wilderness with Grima and settling down in a deserted city like Edoras. Grima wasn't even sure he wanted to. But, he was in league with Saruman now, which meant he was in league with Sauron. If they wanted to accompany him, they could. It was all technicalities from here on out. At least he had a population for Edoras now, it would have no point without constituents. It was pointless without Eowyn, of course, but a different kind of pointless.
Gandalf stood outside Eomer's tent; it was late, or, very early in the morning. He had waited, trying to prepare a speech that would console Eomer a bit. At the very least something that would piss him off. There were pressing matters at hand.
Before he even had a chance, though, Eomer called from the darkness and silence, "If it makes any sense to you at all, Gandalf, I'd really prefer to be alone right now."
And to the darkness Grima spoke, thinking on his love, with shaky breath and voice, through tears, "There's nothing I can do."
The sun had gone down, the moon passed behind a cloud, and they left the land in total darkness.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Eowyn woke that morning inexplicably positive. This made little sense, considering she was basically tool-less in a vast wilderness. Yet something in her said, It'll be fine, it will all work out.
She set off to a small, fresh pool she found yesterday on her trek. That day she was far too weary to do much investigating and, although Eowyn was still starving and thirsty, she at least was rested enough to walk about today. Finding the pool once again, she skirted the edges, digging through the many plants growing between the rocks that lined the pool. Gasping in her good luck, she found a few wild leeks growing in a small batch. She picked a few and left some to continue growing. She jumped in the pool to wash off some of the dirt, both on her and the leeks, redressed, and set the leeks down on a nearby rock. Finding some dry wood and grass, she took the lot of it back to the cave with her. She had only ever seen others make a fire from scratch, and it took hours of endless trying to get it to work by emulating their movements, but finally there was a spark, and then a fire. Not too big, so as to leave attention away from her hiding place.
Even with this lucky feast of leeks, she needed water. Getting an idea, she set off to find a piece of wood that would work. It was long, but the inner part of the wood was gone, leaving only an outer shell. She shoved some clay into either end to close them and dipped it in the water, taking it back to the fire, and boiling it. It didn't taste great, but at least it was clean.
And Eowyn thought maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be totally miserable out here.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
"How much longer do you think it'll be, Merry?" Pip whispered, quite as he could, making sure Treebeard couldn't hear his impatient inquiry. Oh, if Treebeard heard Pippin ask that, he'd get an earful. A very long, long, earful.
"At this rate, Pip?" Merry fought the urge not to chuckle, or sigh. He couldn't quite decide which one he even wanted to do. "Probably another week or so."
"What was that?" Treebeard's slow, slurred speech matched with his stretched, erred steps, as the other Ents he had gathered matched pace, or the lack thereof.
"Nothing, Treebeard! No worries!" Pippin exclaimed.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Eh, kind of a short chapter, but I like it better than the last one. Idk, the second half isn't really dark or anything. I was in a really good mood that day! Guess it can't all be doom and gloom.
Anyway, you know, lemme know.
Now that I've actually written the grief scenes, is that a bit more like it, pals?